


Longing to Linger

by hehkhatea



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Angst, Crushes, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character(s), Mutual Pining, Post-The Blood of Olympus, Post-The Heroes of Olympus, Underage Drinking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-29
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2018-11-20 21:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11343396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hehkhatea/pseuds/hehkhatea
Summary: Love is the last thing on Clovis' mind, but he has unfortunately developed a mild crush on fellow head counselor Pollux. This wouldn't be a problem if two children of Aphrodite hadn't made it their mission in life to get them together, or how Pollux is having nightmares and personally makes sure that he only gets dream help from Clovis. Are these coincidences leading to a love-connection or a greek tragedy?





	1. Stars Shining Bright Above You

Clovis grew up around art, and that was how he saw the world; like a gallery.

Staring at everyone eating at dinner was a lot like looking at paintings in a museum: they were segments of a person’s life, captured in an instant. These were the people that Clovis grew up with, some he was even related to. Studying their faces, it made him nearly fall asleep into his mashed potatoes. When there was too much activity, too much noise, it affects his narcolepsy, made him feel sleepy. The voices were all indistinct, like listening to a radio in another room, and Clovis felt himself sway a little, his eyes closing. Gravity woke him up, the feeling of falling over jolted him awake. This happened several times a day, most people knew him for taking naps periodically throughout the day.

Clovis tried to keep eating, careful not to eat everything so he’d have something to give as an offering. He wasn’t terribly close with his godly father, Hypnos, other than he came into his dreams to check in.  _ How’s camp? How’s your mother? Eating well? Getting enough sleep? _ The usual. The last part seemed a little ironic, but Clovis swears that he does. He was sure he did the same for his other couple of siblings, but it was better than Hypnos never showing up. Clovis figured Hypnos was a busy god; he probably cataloged every weird dream someone had, putting them in files, sorted alphabetically. The thought of sorting files made Clovis sleepy again, he shook his head, trying to stay awake again.

He was glad that there was no game of capture the flag tonight, he could go to bed soon. Gods, he loved his bed, it was by far his favorite place to sleep. Clovis was also fond of taking naps on the chairs that lined the porch of the Big House, or in front of the fire pit in the ampitheatre. But his bed was the best; the sheets were perfect, his pillow was the right amount of fluffy and firm, and it was tucked into the crook of the Hypnos cabin, under a window. He liked how the little trinkets that he hung over his head casted shadows in the moonlight, the prism that shined a rainbow on the wall in the morning.

Clovis loved sleeping, but he also loved going to sleep and waking up, the rituals that came with both of them. He liked brushing his teeth, putting on pajamas, talking to his siblings before wishing them goodnight, drinking warm milk before passing out. He liked making his bed, getting dressed, eating a huge breakfast with a lot of coffee. Coffee was a new addition to his morning routine, thinking it would help him stay awake. After the battle with the Romans and the Giants, Clovis wanted to try and curb his habit of sleeping all the time, try to curb his depression in the process. He knew that it didn’t help his drowsiness. 

He didn’t know a lot of people that died, not even during the Titan war, but when he slept he felt less and less dreams. People that he had never talked to outside his dreams were now gone, and that made him feel even worst. Clovis looked at everyone in the dining pavilion; all in their still-lives, their brushstroke expressions, painted smiles and laughs. Some were the focal points: they attracted the most attention, they dominated the conversations. Others filled in the foreground, but they belonged in the picture.

Clovis liked to think of himself as a portrait, that he was the subject or the loved one of a artist. He wouldn’t tell a story through his actions, but that someone would know who he was and what he was like from one look, from how someone else saw him and created his likeness with paint. In reality, Clovis was more like a random face in the background, a pixel in a photograph. Clovis mattered to a small number of people, they knew him, but he wasn’t anything special, even as Head Counselor for Hypnos cabin. He was in charge of two other people, it wasn’t that hard of a job.

Looking around again, Clovis’ eyes fell onto a table of campers, all in a heated discussion. They were mostly head counselors, people Clovis saw on a regular basis. It seemed nice to be in an overly active conversation, to have friends break out laughing because someone else had told a killer joke. The only person not actively engaging in the conversation was leaning into the table, propping his head up with his hand.

Pollux, the sole demigod son of Mr. D, Dionysus. Clovis always liked Pollux’s style; he rolled up the sleeves of his t-shirts, his jeans almost always had blown-out knees, and he had several ear piercings. Pollux seemed comfortable in his setting, that he would rather listen. He wasn’t the focal point, he wasn’t where the eyes gravitated to, but Pollux was the kind of subject a student would write a thesis on. He was an image that someone could come up with a deep theory about why they were in the picture. 

Pollux smiled, small and slight but Clovis could see the small gap in his teeth, the dangling earring waved in his ear. Pollux was alive, he wasn’t captured in a moment by photograph or sat for hours while someone painted him. And then Pollux looked in Clovis’ direction, his violet eyes landing on Clovis. Clovis quickly looked down at his plate, his meal had long gone cold and people were starting to leave the pavilion.

“You’ve got it bad,” Clovis nearly jumped out of his skin, another camper had came and sat next to him. Clovis knew them, Mitchell from Aphrodite cabin. “Like, I thought my crushes  were bad.”

Clovis blinked a couple of times, unsure how to respond to Mitchell, who until today had maybe talked to Clovis two other times in his life. “I’m sorry, I don’t know-”

“Pollux, right?” Mitchell gestured to the table where Pollux and his friends were sitting, not looking at them. “I can see the appeal.”

“How do you know I was looking at Pollux?”  _ I thought I was the only person that people watched _ , he thought. “What if he’s my arch nemesis and I’m just glaring at him?” Mitchell didn’t seem convinced, but Clovis didn’t bother to try and defend himself any further. Clovis got up and went to the offering fire, dumping the rest of his meal into it.  _ Dad, help me get rid of him, not in a mob-way, though. _ Clovis silently prayed. He wasn’t sure that Hypnos could actually do anything, maybe make Mitchell pass out unexpectedly and forget that he was bothering Clovis, he prayed nonetheless.

Clovis started to walk towards the amphitheatre with everyone else, Mitchell following close behind.  _ He’s like a bad penny! _ Clovis cursed. It wasn’t that Clovis didn’t like Mitchell, it was Mitchell’s sudden interest in Clovis’ nonexistent love life that kind of freaked him out. A relationship was the last thing on Clovis’ mind. “Clovis! Wait up!” Mitchell called, Clovis obliged out of politeness. Mitchell thanked him, and they walked together.

“I can help you, you know.” Mitchell said. “With your crush.”

“Again, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I also have no idea why you’re talking to me either.” Clovis shoved his hands into his sweatshirt pockets, a staple of his fashion-sense.

“Am I not allowed to talk to you?” Mitchell questioned.

“I can literally count the times you’ve talked to me, most of them consists of saying ‘sorry’ after bumping into me on accident.” Mitchell looked a little embarrassed, clearly understanding Clovis’ distrust in him. He sighed. “Look, we can sit together and you can tell me what it is you think is going on with me.” Mitchell almost smiled at that, it was just a little one.

They sat near the entrance of the amphitheatre, high above the fire. It was here where Clovis once again felt like he was observing scenes from paintings, much of camp life felt that way. With the sun setting the fire rising higher, orange light casted dark shadows across people's faces. Everyone was settling in, a quiet murmur of activity as people continued conversations from dinner.

Campers from Apollo cabin were situating themselves near the fire, tuning their instruments and getting ready to play. They rarely played anything too soothing that it would make Clovis fall asleep, plus every so often someone would play a wrong note, it was pretty obvious with the acoustics.

“So why the interest in who I’m having a crush on?” Clovis cut straight to the chase.

It startled Mitchell a little, but he recovered quickly and responded. “So you  _ do _ have a crush!” Clovis gave Mitchell a look before Mitchell defended himself. “Child of Aphrodite, remember? I more or less make it my business to know people’s crushes.”

“That seems like an invasion of privacy.” Clovis muttered.

“Don’t you look into other people’s dreams?” Clovis was almost startled by the comeback, but he scoffed and mumbled a quiet  _ touché _ . He wasn’t actively looking for Pollux in the crowd, but Clovis’ eyes landed on him anyways. 

Pollux wasn’t a conventional face, he had inherited a bit of his looks from Dionysus; his nose was a bit too long, a jawline that was too square, and eyes that were an almost uncomfortable shade of violet. These all seemed like features that wouldn’t work together, and when Pollux was younger they really didn’t. It had been almost a year since the Giants were defeated, and even before that Pollux had lost a lot of weight and grew into his face. It was hard to think of Mr. D as being attractive, but his son certainly was. Despite Clovis sitting far enough from the fire, he still felt heat rise to his face.

Or maybe, it wasn’t from the fire at all. Clovis looked down at his feet, rubbing his face for a moment. He then looked up at Mitchell, who glanced at him and gave Clovis a knowing and understanding smile. Clovis practically groaned in defeat, “When did this even happen? Yesterday he was just another face in the crowd and now-”

“Eros probably,” Mitchell crossed his arms. “He’s been doing that a lot recently, now that summer is coming.”

“Mitchell, I can’t have a crush on someone.”

“Why not?” Mitchell placed his hand on Clovis’ shoulder. “Crushes are innocent and fleeting. You’ll probably be over it in a week, but I think you’ll be cute together so I’m hoping to play matchmaker.”

“But I see him everyday,” Clovis started nervously brushing his hair back, almost pulling it. “I sit across from him during counselor meetings. It’s easier to get over a crush when you don’t see them.”

Mitchell shook his head. “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, Clovis.” Clovis wanted to object, but he defeatedly hung his head into his hands, sighing. “Hey,” Mitchell got his attention again. “Clovis, I want to be friends with you. I know you think you’re boring and that you’re not even blip on everyone’s radar-”

“I didn’t really think that negatively about myself,” Clovis commented, getting annoyed again. “But I’m glad someone thinks that I’m a self-hating loser.” 

Mitchell’s face flushed. “Oh my gods, no! I didn’t-” Mitchell squeezed his face, muttering swears and self-deprecating words about himself. After a while, Mitchell looked at Clovis with his hands still covering his face, his eyes peeking from between his fingers. “Can we start over?”

Clovis blinked, a little unsure of what he was hoping to achieve with this, but considering Mitchell had already embarrassed himself in front of Clovis at least twice now he was going to give him the benefit of the doubt. “Sure.” he replied.

Mitchell held his hand out, “Hi, my name is Mitchell Davies, son of Aphrodite.”

Clovis chuckled a little before shaking Mitchell’s hand. “Clovis Moreau, son of Hypnos.” Mitchell seemed relieved that Clovis had humored him. 

“Nice to meet you Clovis,” Mitchell continued. “Say, I couldn’t help noticing you might-” Mitchell pointed to Clovis, whose eyebrow raised a little. “Emphasis on ‘might’, have a crush on a certain son of Dionysus. Since I am a self-proclaimed matchmaker extraordinaire, I believe I could help set you up.” Mitchell fluttered his eyelashes in an attempt to seem cute, Clovis stifled a laugh.

“I appreciate it,” Clovis replied. “But no thanks.” 

Mitchell nearly cried out in frustration and disbelief, they both were careful not to interrupt the performances though. Mitchell was shaking his fists like an evil villan who’s plans had just been foiled. “Why not?”

“Has it ever occurred to you that I might not be gay?” Clovis offered. He wasn’t entirely sure himself, he had never been kissed before, but if there was anything to describe his sexuality it would probably be ‘definitely not straight’. There weren’t many girls that he had found attractive in a sexual sense, mostly because girls were not inclined to notice him anyway, but boys were a little different. Jason was hot, but in a Captain America ‘perfect-and-unattainable’ way. Nico was appealing because he was a lot like a cat, the more you wanted him the less likely he was going to come, plus he seemed very happy with Will and Clovis didn’t like Nico enough for him to develop stronger feelings for.

Clovis thought perhaps that the reason he may have feelings for Pollux is because he knows he doesn’t have a chance with him.

“Everyone is bi until proven otherwise in my mind,” Mitchell said. “We’re not living in a heteronormative world.” Mitchell then clasped his hands. “Please Clovis, at least let me do some recon for you!”

“What?”

“Let me find out what he’s into, if he’s interested in dating anyone, that kind of stuff.”

Clovis sighed, the guy was starting to wear him down, making it harder for him to say no. Mitchell may have been using charmspeak on him, but Clovis was so tired of talking about this that he relented. “Fine, just don’t tell him I am.” Mitchell beamed, pumping his fist a little.

“Leave it to me.” Mitchell promised. The performing campers finished and everyone clapped, Mitchell was exceptionally enthusiastic. Clovis was relieved that it was over, it now meant that he could go to bed and forget about this, forget about how looking at Pollux made him feel.

At best, Clovis was only attracted to him based on looks, and there wouldn’t be a lot to go on and the feelings would fizzle out. 

Clovis got up and left the amphitheatre and went into his cabin to grab his toothbrush and pajamas before heading to the communal bathrooms. Said bathrooms were not the cleanest, they weren’t cleaned very regularly despite an influx of campers in the past couple of years, but Clovis never stayed for very long. The nighttime ritual would start; minty fresh toothpaste, small circles, wait for the water to get clear, and change out of camp clothes. Clovis wouldn’t call himself very physically fit, he was on the chunky side and all his muscles were in his arms. He put on his Keith Haring tshirt he had gotten for Christmas from his mom and long pajama pants; the perfect outfit for catching Zs.

When he got back to his cabin, his two siblings were already there. Rory, who was a couple years younger than him, was lying her bed playing on her DS, it was one of the few contraband objects that she allowed herself to keep in camp. If Rory wasn’t eating or sleeping, she was playing copious amounts of Animal Crossing and Pokemon. The other, Rosa, was tucked into bed, holding her old, eyeless teddy bear. This was all that consisted of Hypnos Cabin, it was built small for a reason, but there were always a bunch of empty bunks, and typically the cabin was open for people to take naps in or if someone was severely injured and needed rest. The hearth in the middle of the cabin was almost out, the fire rising low, and Clovis threw in another log.

He then went to the little fridge and microwave in the corner where he kept his milk and midnight snacks. Campers weren’t technically allowed to have food in their cabin, let alone a fridge and microwave, but Clovis had managed to sneak it in and rarely talked about it so almost no one knew about it. He made himself a glass of warm milk and went over to Rosa’s bed, grabbing the book at the foot of her bed. Rosa was almost seven years old and a full-time camper, and despite the fact that she was getting a little too old for bedtime stories she always insisted that Clovis read to her.

It was a mythology book, but with Norse myths, not Greek. It was long and with detailed ink drawings for every story, which was a little concerning because Norse myths were slightly more brutal than Greek ones. Rosa became fascinated with the stories almost immediately, the problem with reading, especially reading out loud, was that Clovis would get sleepy while he was reading and would some times fall asleep in the middle of a story. Thankfully, Rosa would wake him up or would fall asleep before he could pass out. “So what are we reading tonight?” Clovis asked, opening the book.

“Fenris wolf!” Rosa insisted. 

“Again?” Clovis said incredulously before laughing, and Rosa laughed, too. Smiling, Clovis flipped to the page where the story of Fenris Wolf started. He began, telling how Fenris was the child of the trickster god Loki and was raised in Asgard. How the wolf grew strong and powerful and it scared Odin, the All-Father, and how Odin tricked the wolf into being bound by magic ribbons that he could not break out from. Fenris swore that when the world ended, when Ragnarok began, that he would be free and would kill Odin. It wasn’t the most cheerful story, but with Clovis’ calming voice, Rosa fell asleep.

“What ever happened to  _ Goodnight Moon _ ?” Rory commented, not even looking up from her screen. “That’s a seriously fucked up bedtime story.”

“Greek ones aren’t any better,” Clovis tucked in his sleeping sister, turning on the twinkle-lights above her bunk. “I think we’ve become so conditioned to the Greek stories that anything else seems weird.” Rory grunted, not really interested. 

Rory and Clovis didn’t get along all the time, she didn’t respect Clovis’ authority as someone who was not only older than her but also head counselor of the cabin. She was also reluctant to help Clovis anytime someone came to their cabin for sleep problems, and Clovis couldn’t stand that on a moral basis. They did, on rare occasions, share dreams with each other, finding things that they liked through sleep.

Clovis finished his warm milk and got up to get into his bed, but as he crossed the room he saw someone approach the cabin. He hoped it wasn’t Mitchell, Clovis needed at least eight hours of sleep before he talked to Mitchell again. He had never been more exhausted by a person than he had been by Mitchell, but Clovis ultimately still liked him.

But Clovis’ heart nearly stopped, seeing that through the screen door that Pollux was standing on the porch steps. Pollux waved, having seen Clovis standing there, so Clovis’ plan to try and hide was immediately shot. Clovis just needed to calm down, put on his friendly, professional face. He approached the door and opened it, Pollux smiled a crooked grin. Subconsciously, Clovis’ hand went over his heart, clenching his shirt.

“Hey, Clovis.” Pollux greeted.

“Good evening,” Clovis’ hand moved to head, trying to smooth down his almost permanent bed-head. “What can I do for you?”

Pollux was playing with his earrings, fidgeting with the rings and cuffs he had on. Clovis could see that Pollux had at least five piercings: two on each lobe and one industrial piercing. He also looked very tired, it was less obvious from a distance but Pollux had deep bags under his eyes that were almost as purple as his eyes. “Help me with my sleep troubles, hopefully.” Pollux replied. “I know they're kind of the norm but it's been bad for the last couple of nights. If its not insomnia, it's the nightmares.”

Clovis nodded. Demigods getting nightmares was nothing special, especially prophetic ones, but sometimes there’s more to it than a dream where you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of the whole camp. “Well, come in. We can work on-” Just as Clovis was going to go back into the cabin, Pollux grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

“No,” Pollux objected, his hand held Clovis’ arm for just a moment too long, enough for Clovis’ heart to hitch a little. Pollux seemed almost embarrassed, either by grabbing Clovis or by what he was about to ask. “No. I was actually hoping for a regular sleep aid, like pills or something.”

Clovis couldn’t really hide his disappointment, but he nodded anyways and told Pollux to wait. Before Hypnos started claiming children, before the cabin was built, mortal sleep aids were one of those things campers came in with. Then campers didn’t need them, not when Clovis, Rory or Rosa could help someone go to sleep. Despite that, in a cabinet under the floorboards in the back corner of the cabin laid a hidden cache of pills and syrups, all non-magic. Clovis went to it and pulled out a small flask filled with little grey pills the size of his finger tips.

When he came back, Rory had gotten up and was at the doorway, interrogating Pollux. “So, what? You don’t trust us to help you with our powers?”

“Not at all,” Pollux replied, he was studying the poppies that grew around the door and in the window flower boxes. “I just figured I’d need to set an appointment or something.”

“We’re teenagers in a log cabin.” Rory’s hands were resting on her hips, she established a powerful vibe from that. “It's not like we’re therapists or something.”

“I would hope not, your bedside manner is terrible.” Pollux joked. Rory rolled her eyes and as Clovis gave Pollux the flask she went back into her bed.

After clearing his throat, Clovis explained what they did. “These are melatonin pills; you take two and wait about half an hour before going to sleep.” Pollux nodded. “They’re not terribly strong, but it’s pretty effective and most people experience the feeling of a quick nights sleep, like they didn’t dream at all.”

“Perfect,” Pollux put the flask in his pocket. “Thank you.”

“Sure,” Clovis smiled. “But um, for the nightmares, you really should come to us if you want help for that. Like Rory said you don’t need to set up appointments or anything, one of us is almost always here. Plus we kind of follow the ‘patient confidentiality’ thing, secrets are safe in Cabin 15.”

Pollux seemed to think about it for a moment, he messed with the pedals of a poppy flower. Then he sighed, “Yeah, alright. When are you here?”

“Me?” Clovis was nearly startled by the question, but he recovered quickly. “I’m here every morning until about noon, then Rory takes over until dinner.” 

Pollux nodded, “So if I came here around 10:30, you’ll be here?”

“Yep!” Clovis confirmed.

“Great,” Pollux plucked a poppy off the doorframe and tucked it behind his ear. “It’s a date.” With that, he went down the stairs and started walking to to his cabin. “Nice pjs, by the way!” Pollux called back before breaking into a jog. 

Clovis felt both his jaw and his heart dropped. Surely Pollux didn’t mean anything when he called their meeting a ‘date’, yet Clovis let himself believe it for a moment. When he closed the door and went back into the cabin, Rory was sitting in her bed, her eyes wide and mouth open. It was a mix of emotions, either impressed or completely horrified by what had just transpired.

“Don’t.” Clovis warned, pointing at her. “Say. Anything.” Rory rolled her eyes again and fell backwards into her bed in exasperation. Clovis went into his bed, his beautiful and cozy bed. He didn't realize how exhausted he was, for a moment he forgot what it would like to be drowsy. He almost instantly fell asleep as he normally does, but Clovis’ heart was still beating fast and felt warm in his chest. Maybe he wouldn’t wake up the next day and feel nothing for Pollux, maybe he could try and let himself have a crush on someone for once in his life. And maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad.


	2. Birds Singing in the Sycamore Trees

Swirling blues, yellows, oranges, and black paint. Stars the size of oranges. A sleepy little town below the star-bursting night sky. Clovis felt himself getting lost in the image, like he could step into the scene, be on a hill overlooking this incredible night, but he couldn’t. He’d have to move on to the next picture, the next painting in a long hall of paintings. The gallery was quiet, just the way Clovis liked it; no tourists or school groups, just the gentle murmuring of couples and the sounds of heels against stone and hardwood. The gallery was dotted with old people and art students studying the brushstrokes and careful details of every painting. 

He was comfortable on the stone bench, even if it didn’t have a back to it, but he had to keep moving throughout the museum, there was still a lot that he had to see. Clovis went through the Andy Warhol, the Yoko Ono film, and revisited his favorite Keith Haring exhibits that had long since left the MoMa. That’s something that Clovis could do in his dreams; revisit memories and fashion them into his own dream. He could go into a museum that was exclusively Keith Haring pieces, even ones that didn’t actually exist, in his dreams. 

Clovis found the Gilbert Baker LGBT flag, and despite the fact that there was no draft in the room the flag waved in the non existent wind. When Clovis looked away from the flag his eyes landed on someone standing in the entryway of another gallery. A very familiar sight, though a very gruesome one.

Pollux stood across the room, his camp shirt was dirty and ripped, but more importantly it was bloody. He also looked slightly younger, the shirt was more fitted by his gut and his face was rounder. As Clovis went to investigate, Pollux retreated into the other gallery, his breathing was heavy.

“Wait, Pollux!” Clovis’ voice echoed in the halls of his dream. He went to chase after Pollux into the next room, but he had disappeared into a sudden crowd of people. Shoving his way through the crowd, Clovis ended up outside the MoMA, into the in between dream plane he was used to seeing before walking into a dream. He could see other dreams going on while he slept, but there was no sign of Pollux. 

Clovis couldn’t help feeling responsible, that he should’ve insisted that Pollux get help from him, but at the same time he was afraid of dreaming with Pollux. His feelings about Pollux were all a mess, and the subconscious could bring up the worst thoughts. Also the idea of being in close proximity of Pollux made Clovis’ heart race, which annoyed Clovis more than anything.

When Clovis turned back to the museum, he found himself standing on top of a roof. In quick succession, Clovis realized he was on top of a roof but could not stop himself from tripping off of said roof, and he then fell off the roof. Clovis hated those dreams where he fell off of things, because it meant that when he woke up-

Clovis jolted up awake, heart felt like it had fallen into his chest, he felt almost pinned down into his bed. He blinked a couple times, just to make sure he was actually awake, the feeling of eye-sand scratching the corners of his eyes. Rubbing his face, eyes, and hair, Clovis then took a deep breath and sat up in his bed, opening the curtains by his bed. A nearly blinding stream of sunlight came into cabin as he opened the curtains, drawing out an annoyed grunt from Clovis. As much as he liked his morning rituals, he could already tell today was going to be a slow morning.

Looking at the little bedside clock, Clovis saw that it was almost 9 o’clock, which meant breakfast would be over soon. Thankfully, Clovis knew that there were toaster waffles in the fridge that he could always heat up, but he couldn’t help notice the to-go cup of coffee on his bedside table. He was completely certain that it was not there when he went to sleep, he was also completely certain that he hasn’t had coffee from this particular coffee shop since before he went to camp for the summer. When he picked it up he felt that it was completely full and relatively still warm; drinkable, even. There was a light purple post-it note on the top of the cup:

_ I was out of camp this morning and _

_ I got this for you but I didn’t want _

_ to wake you, I’ll see you later. _

_ Pollux :) _

Clovis nearly crushed the post-it note in his hand, his face becoming very hot. Did that mean that Pollux had come into the cabin while he was sleeping and left this for him? Or did he give it to Rory and Rosa? The second one might be a worse scenario, because it meant his sisters probably read the note, and Rory probably spat in it. The former idea freaked Clovis just as much as the latter, the thought of Pollux coming in and seeing Clovis while he was sleeping made his heart hurt a little in anxiety. It felt a little irrational for Clovis to be upset about the idea of someone coming into his cabin, there was an open-door policy in Cabin 15 so that anyone could come in and take a nap and get some solace for their nightmares. Clovis decided that maybe the reason he was weirded out by it was because it was a kind gesture for Pollux to do, something no-one would think to do for him.

Clovis took a sip of his coffee, it was at just the right temperature and had a little bit of milk in it, too. He folded up the note and shoved it under his pillow before getting out of his bed. The wood floor was cool under his feet, until Clovis slipped into his manticore slippers; little stuffed lion heads by the toes and a plush snakes at the heels. He slowly shuffled to the back of the cabin to the fridge, pulling out waffles and putting them into the toaster on the small counter. The mini kitchen they had in the cabin was completely against camp rules, but they had yet to be reported for it, it was also convenient for their late night snacks.

He continued to sip his coffee, especially since he was sure it was going to go cold soon. Clovis started thinking about his dream last night, how his trip at the MoMA went from peaceful to stressful at the sight of a young and bloody Pollux. Sometimes Clovis would end up in other people's’ dreams, he’d peek through just to make sure they were having regular weird dreams and not ones of the scary variety. The likelihood of someone coming into Clovis’ dream was slim-to-none, unless it was one of his siblings or his father. Anyone else might be purely coincidental, it wouldn’t be the person’s actual consciousness in the dream. In this case, however, it seemed like Pollux was  _ looking _ for Clovis in his dream; that Pollux’s subconscious had sought out Clovis.

Clovis could easily dismiss it, it was probably because Clovis was thinking about Pollux before he went to sleep, but it was still troubling for Clovis. It was troubling to see that Pollux was having a nightmare, but Clovis was thankful that Pollux was going to get help. 

During the wars, the nightmares were unbearable for Clovis, feeling them and walking through them. Even if Clovis wasn’t having a nightmare of his own, he couldn’t look into anything without seeing horrific images. It was like looking out a window of his house to see a town on fire while everything was perfectly normal on the inside.

The pop of the toaster scared Clovis out of his daze, two yellow waffles are peeking out the top. He quickly finished off his coffee and went to take the waffles out. In Clovis’ impatience he burned his hands picking them up from the toaster, but the pain subsided soon as he waved them around in trying to cool them off. As he started to eat, Clovis went back to his bed to make it, folding the blankets and fluffing his pillow all while he stuffed waffles into his mouth. Grabbing his toiletries and new clothes, Clovis headed out the door to the bathrooms, or he would’ve had he not ran into someone standing outside his cabin.

In a miraculous turn of fate, Clovis had managed to trip into Pollux, who then caught Clovis in a dip-like fashion. Clovis, leaning back into Pollux’s arms, was about two inches away from his face and still had a waffle piece sticking out between his lips. His hands were on Pollux’s shoulders, gripping his camp shirt and a piece of the leather gun holster that wrapped around his shoulders. The dark, round sunglasses Pollux was wearing were slightly askew and sliding down his nose, revealing his violet colored eyes. Light-colored scruff had grown around Pollux’s jaw, and Clovis was sure that he was only imagining Pollux leaning into him. He was, of course, not leaning into Clovis but just slightly lifting him back up onto his feet.

Pollux let go of Clovis safely and adjusted his sunglasses before giving Clovis and awkward smile, almost showing the gap in his teeth. It was a little disorienting to see Pollux like this; to be a complete opposite from what Clovis had seen in his dream. Clovis’ brain had gone blank, he wasn’t sure how he should process what had just occurred, but he figured he should probably finish eating the waffle that was hanging from his mouth. Shoving it forcefully down his throat, Clovis stuttered an apology to Pollux, but it only made Pollux smile more, even granting a laugh from him. Heat began rise to Clovis’ face, on the one hand he was feeling very embarrassed by the whole situation, and on the other he really liked seeing Pollux smile.

“Don’t worry about it,” Pollux tired so hard not to laugh, Clovis couldn’t tell if he was blushing too or if it was just his normal flushed look. “I’m sure people fall for me all the time.” He was kidding, but he didn’t know how true it was.

“I-I was about to get dressed.” Clovis explained, holding up his clothes. “I wasn’t expecting you so early.” Clovis mumbled the last part a little, but not in a hateful tone.

Pollux examined the watch on his wrist and cringed. “Shit,” he muttered. “My bad. I was just getting so anxious that I thought I would just come back again to see if you were awake.” Pollux took off his sunglasses, rubbing his bagged eyes. He looked more rested than when Clovis saw him last night, but his eyes were still a little bloodshot.

“That explains the coffee.” Clovis commented. Looking down at his feet he realized he was still wearing his manticore slippered, a wave of shame fell over him. It didn’t stop because he also realized he was in his pajama pants that Pollux complemented last night, and upon closer inspection he saw that there were little strawberries and bunnies on them. Clovis was certain this was the worst outfit he could’ve worn while talking to Pollux, but the sooner the conversation ended the sooner he could get to the bathrooms and change into something normal.

“Oh, yes.” Pollux confirmed, putting his glasses back on. “I went out with Argus to deliver some strawberries and pick up some campers living in the city this morning. I figured I’d pick some coffee up for you, it’s just one of those street vendor coffees but I hope that it was good.”

“Yes, it was. Thank you very much.” Clovis smiled a little. “It was very considerate of you.”

Pollux grinned a little, not showing his teeth, and looked down at his feet. Pollux was wearing his typical jeans with blown out knees, whether they had worn out naturally or on purpose was unknown, and a pair of short boots that did not look acceptable for everyday camp activities. Pollux looked more ready for New York Fashion Week than he did for being a demigod, but the gun holster was the piece that stood out the most.

Guns weren’t a terribly popular weapon around camp, how to sword fight and archery practice were basic camp activities and were ingrained into the demigod lifestyle, but it didn’t stop Bunker 9 from experimenting and coming up with guns safe for demigods to use that were incredibly deadly towards monsters. Clovis wasn’t sure why Pollux used them, but maybe after fighting in two wars with swords Pollux wanted something more effective.

Clovis cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll be right back. You can stay here and we can get started a little early.”

“Are you sure?” Pollux asked. “I can always come back…”

“It’s fine. My sisters aren’t inside right now, it might be better if we talk before they come back. Less pressure for both of us.” Most of the time Clovis worked with his sisters, their powers worked better when they were together. It was, however, more daunting for the dreamer when there are more people in their personal space. After last night, Clovis was sure that Rory would only needle more condescending questions towards Pollux for no discernible reason other than to mortify Clovis.

Pollux nodded in acknowledgement and went to sit on the steps of the cabin. “I’ll wait here.” Pollux put his sunglasses back on, he was getting ready to enjoy some morning sun. It seemed incredibly unfair that Pollux could look so cool in the morning while Clovis had literally rolled out of bed and could never compete against Pollux’s coolness. Clovis turned and headed to the bathrooms with haste; he attempted to give himself a little pep talk as he jogged. 

_ It’s just another person’s dream _ , he thought.  _ There isn’t anything weird or different compared to anyone else. Don’t think about the fact that it’s Pollux’s dream, don’t think about how attractive he is; in fact, don’t think at all _ . Clovis hoped that if he kept thinking about this he’d be fine. The bathrooms were fairly busy at the moment after breakfast, but Clovis changed quickly into his camp shirt and jeans and started to brush his teeth in front of the newly vandalized mirror. Clovis wasn’t very self-conscious about his appearance; he knew that he wasn’t the most good-looking kid in camp, and in his indifference of his appearance his hair had grown into a shaggy mop that always had the worst cowlicks in the morning. There was no taming the haybale of hair on his head, at most he could try to smooth it back enough that it showed his forehead and thick eyebrows.

After brushing his teeth, Clovis headed back to his cabin, fully aware that he was still wearing his dumb slippers. At this point there was no point in trying to pretend he wasn’t wearing them, Pollux had probably seen them already and Clovis didn’t want to walk around camp on his bare feet. The camp was fairly active this morning; campers were slowly coming back for summer and were getting reacquainted with the schedules and general insanity of camp life. It meant the popular campers were coming back and the summer was going to be bustling around New Athens. Clovis, unfortunately, had locked eyes with Mitchell, who was sitting at the fire pit in the center of the cabin cul-de-sac.

Mitchell waved and smiled, and Clovis did the same half-heartedly. Mitchell’s eyes then moved to Cabin 15, where a very relaxed Pollux was sitting on the front steps, and his jaw dropped. Clovis started to make some hand gestures that signaled the feeling of “don’t say anything and don’t freak out, you gossiping drama whore!” and a facial expression that exerted Clovis’ eye sockets. This then started a little nonverbal conversation where Mitchell was gaping at Clovis like a fish out of water, visibly freaking out for Clovis at Pollux’s placement at Cabin 15. Clovis shook his head and signaled for Mitchell to cut out the drama, Mitchell rolled his eyes and sat down lower in the chair by the fire.

As Clovis approached, he noticed that Pollux had started to pick some of the poppies that grew around the door of the cabin and weave them into a flower crown. The flowers seemed to bend to his will, it was the kind of plant work that Clovis only ever saw happen around children of Demeter, but Pollux had managed to get the red flowers to twist into tight knots. Just as Pollux noticed Clovis, he placed the crown on his head and smiled up at Clovis.

“Impressive!” Clovis complemented. “I can barely keep them from overgrowing over the door.”

“Thank you,” Pollux took off his sunglasses and tucked them into his shirt collar. “Though I find these poppies to be confusing. They don’t usually grow on vines, you know.”

“Right,” Clovis opened the door for Pollux. “They were originally painted onto the doorway, but I think Lou Ellen turned them real.” Pollux walked into the cabin and sat down in the pitted seating area in the center of the cabin.

“That seems like something she would do.” Pollux commented. Clovis took off his slippers and kicked them under the bed, where Clovis was sure they would never see the light of day ever again. Pollux took off his gun holster and set it down in the pillowed seat next to him; he did it gingerly, careful with the firearms he kept on him.

Clovis went back to the kitchenette and poured two glasses of water and went to sit across from Pollux. Clovis didn’t want to start the fire up again, it was far too warm for that. Pollux took the glass of water, thanking Clovis quietly.

“How did you sleep?” Clovis asked. “Were the pills effective?”

Pollux nodded while taking a drink of water. “Yes, thank you. I did wake up early, but that was probably because of the wine I drank with it.”

The camp wasn’t very strict when it came to contraband as it should be, but Dionysus Cabin was the worst offender, or at least that was the rumor around camp. Everyone believed that Pollux worked in secret with children of Hermes in order to get alcohol into the camp, it seemed completely impossible since there was so much security and vigilance around camp, they would’ve had to been caught at some point. Maybe they had and kept going anyways. Regardless if the rumor was true, Pollux had admitted that he was drinking last night.

Clovis wasn’t sure if he should outright admit that he saw Pollux in his own dream last night, he was positive that Pollux was aware that he was in Clovis’ dream, but it wasn’t often that people outside of children of Hypnos could go into other people's dreams. There was a bit of an awkward silence between it, the only thing filling it was the classical music that played on the radio in the cabin at all times, and a steady drip that came from the popular tree. Eventually Clovis gathered his courage to start talking again.

“Well,” Clovis started, rubbing his palms onto his pants. “I’m glad you got some sleep, you certainly look more rested than when I saw you yesterday.” Clovis took a sip of his water. “Um, why don’t you tell me about the nightmares you’ve been having?”

Pollux’s face hardens a little, his jaw clenching a little, but his eyes remain locked with Clovis’. His eyes were normally a light purple, a lavender color that could’ve been mistaken for blue, but they looked almost plum colored. Pollux visibly gulped before speaking.

“It’s not prophetic, I think I’m much too old to be a part of a big quest and frankly I’m perfectly fine with that.” Pollux replied.

At eighteen, Pollux was going to be the first wave of campers that were going to be living in New Athens; Camp Half-Blood’s attempt at trying to do what Camp Jupiter did. Clovis had no idea where Pollux was going to go for college, if Pollux was even planning on going to college. Pollux pulled at his ear, messing with the jeweled studs he had inserted. “I-I don’t know if it’s dream,” he continued. “or if it's more of a memory. It feels like I’m reliving a terrible, terrible memory.” Pollux finally looked away from Clovis, and the poppies that wrapped around his head seemed to wilt a little.

“You don’t have to go into specifics,” Clovis said softly. “Especially this early in the morning.” That granted a little smirk from Pollux. “How long have you been having these nightmares?” Clovis asked. Pollux rubbed his face, groaning a little.

“I’ve had this dream before,” he answered compliantly. “Back when the… Back when the memory occurred. The Titan War didn’t help either.” Pollux’s demeanor had completely changed, he was wound up with tension and anxiety. It was a side that Clovis hadn’t really seen in Pollux before, but it was something he was all too familiar with. “For a while they went away, if they came back it was for one or two nights and only when I was feeling really bad. But now I’ve been having them regularly for more than a week.” 

Clovis hummed in understanding. He tried to think about how to approach the situation; Clovis didn’t know much about Pollux’s personal life, but he did know that his twin brother Castor died before the Titan War. Clovis wasn’t around when it happened, he didn’t even get to camp until after the war ended. Clovis has only even known this version of Pollux; quiet and pretty but full of mystery. 

It occurred to Clovis that Pollux’s nightmares stemmed from PTSD, and it was something that Clovis could only go so far to try and help. It was a common occurrence in camp, with many campers fighting in not only the Titan War but against Romans and Giants as well. Getting help with nightmares didn’t automatically cure trauma, but Clovis had to do what he could.

Clovis spoke, “This might be overstepping my bounds-”

“Please,” Pollux interrupted. “Feel free to step, especially in those manticore slippers.” Clovis felt his heart stop for a moment, and this Pollux winked.

“Oh gods,” Clovis sighed. “I was hoping you didn’t notice.” He ran his hands through his messy hair, slightly pulling it.

“Why?” Pollux smiled, his gap teeth revealing itself. “They’re cool! You probably don’t want to show them to Percy and Annabeth, though. They have a complicated history with the manticore.”

“How complicated?”

“Like near death complicated.”

“Got it.” Clovis took a drink of water again, he noticed that Pollux had relaxed again. He was leaning back, his elbows propped onto the main floor, it gave the impression that Pollux was sitting in a hottub. Now there was an image of Pollux in a hottub in Clovis’ mind, and he prayed it would haunt his dreams tonight. “As I was going to ask, I was wondering if you’ve had help before. For mental health, I mean.”

Pollux rolled his eyes, less for Clovis asking the question but because it was probably a very loaded question that Pollux might not want to get into. “I haven’t,” Pollux crossed his leg, propping his ankle on his knee. “I know that I have things that I should deal with, but for a while my mom just couldn’t afford to get help for me.”

“And what about now?”

“Well that’s why I’m here now.” Pollux looked at Clovis with a worried brow. “I know your sister said you guys weren’t therapists, but these dreams…”

It was hard for Clovis to see Pollux like this; defeated, exhausted, pleading. The part of Clovis that always wanted to help people was willing to do anything for Pollux, but the cautious and worried side of Clovis felt like he might be taking a bite bigger than he can chew. The former, however, took over and reached out for Pollux’s hand. Clovis reached over the dull coals of the pit, they emitted no heat yet Clovis felt warm as he gingerly held onto Pollux’s hand, and Pollux let him.

Pollux’s hand was not soft, they felt calloused and hardened from the years of sword fighting and wall climbing with lava. Despite this, Clovis liked the feeling of Pollux’s palm against his own. Clovis was expecting Pollux to remove his hand, but the longer he let it happen, the faster Clovis’ felt his heart beat.

“I can’t cure your pain,” He said gently. “But dreams, those I can do.” Clovis smiled slightly at Pollux, he was sure it looked weird and forced. When Clovis removed his hand, he felt it go sweaty and he instantly felt mortified at the possibility that he had held Pollux’s hand with a gross, clammy hand.

“I appreciate it.” Pollux replied, seemingly unfazed by Clovis holding his hand. “So when does the slumber party start?”

The joke caught Clovis off guard, and he let out a giggle-snort. Pollux looked at Clovis incredulously, his jaw practically dropped but clearly amused. It then made Pollux laugh a little at Clovis’ laugh. It was the most amount of laughter that Cabin 15 had ever seen.

Clovis eventually stopped laughing, but still smiled as he talked. “We can start as early as tonight, if you’d like.”

“The sooner the better,” Pollux stood up, grabbing his gun holster and looping his arms through it. He then glanced at his watch. “I have to get going, I promised Lou Ellen I’d go canoeing with her.”

Clovis nodded, standing up too and going to the door to walk Pollux out. “I’ll see you later.” He held the door open.

“Not if I don’t see you first.” Pollux countered. He put his sunglasses back on as he stepped back outside. Just as he was going to go down the steps, Pollux stopped and turned back to Clovis. He lifted his poppy crown off his head and placed it on Clovis’, his palms grazed the sides of Clovis’ face and his ears as Pollux brought his hands back down after crowning Clovis. It had to have been an accident, but it felt too lingering, too slow and deliberate to have really been a slip of Pollux’s hands. “Red’s a good color on you.” Pollux’s voice was so low it practically purred.

Pollux went down the steps and made his way to the lake. Clovis put his hands over where Pollux had touched him, feeling that his face was hot. He took a deep breath, trying to wrap his head around what had just happened. Sitting down on the steps of the cabin, his hands cupping the sides of his face, Clovis went through a mental checklist of what had happened this morning: he woke up to coffee that Pollux got him, he fell into Pollux’s arms, he talked to Pollux about dreams, he held onto Pollux’s hand, and Pollux had crowned Clovis King of the Poppies.

Clovis was initially worried about Pollux’s comment about their meeting being a date, but seeing how it ended up, it was entirely possible that Clovis had just had his first date with Pollux. I high pitched groan came out of Clovis’ throat, but his jaw was too clenched for it to make too loud of a noise. He exhaled, releasing his tight jaw and feeling the rest of his body relax. There was no need to freak out, all this worrying was for nothing. Clovis let himself think this for a moment as he went back into his cabin and slipped the flower crown off his head and onto an empty hook above his bed, turning the crown into a wreath of poppies.

When Clovis woke up today, he certainly wasn’t expecting what had played out, but he was ultimately happy it happened. If Pollux had shown up later it would’ve drove Clovis mad with anxiety. He’d have to go through his whole day thinking about when Pollux was going to show up, what he’d be like after another restless night of sleeping.

After all that, Clovis suddenly felt very tired again, all the excitement of his morning was already getting to him. He decided to plop down into his bed, a couple red petals from the wreath had started to fall down. It was moments like this where he was glad poppies didn’t have a smell, because he was sure that it would intoxicate him, that it would infect his mind and that it would only remind him of Pollux. Maybe Mitchell was right, maybe Clovis  _ did _ have it bad for Pollux. Once again he could only sit in bafflement. How did this happen? In the span of a short time how could he feel so intensely for Pollux.

His mind went round in circles as he laid down a closed his eyes, feeling the pull of sleep drag him down into his bed. No matter how anxiety stricken he was, Clovis was fully capable of passing out with ease. As his body relaxed and the familiar comfort of sleep wrapped around him, Clovis felt his stress melt away.

Unfortunately, this feeling lasted maybe a couple of minutes before he was shaken awake. “Clovis!” 

As Clovis blinked away, already feeling delirious after a couple minutes of sleep, he saw that Mitchell had let himself into his cabin and was standing in front of Clovis’ bed. “Jeez, it took you long enough!”

Clovis squinted and looked at the clock on his bedside table, seeing that half an hour had passed from when he went back to bed. “What is it, Mitchell?” Clovis grumbled, pulling his blankets around him as he sat up. One of the feathers from the dreamcatchers Piper had made for him brushed the top of his head.

“So,” Mitchell sat on the side of Clovis’ bed. “I said I would do some recon about Pollux for you. I asked Lou Ellen about what Pollux liked in a S.O and I think you’ll be  _ quite _ surprised.”

Clovis groaned a little. “Mitchell, I’m not sure that’s necessary.”

“What do you mean?” He questioned with a hint of concern.

“Well, I want him to like me for  _ me _ , not for a person I’m trying to be just so I’ll be more appealing.” Mitchell seemed touched by the sentiment, he held his hand by his heart, but then Clovis kicked him. “Don’t make this weird.” Clovis warned.

“But that’s so cute!” Mitchell pushed Clovis’ leg down. “Okay, okay. I’ll just tell you that personality-wise, you’re totally his type. Pollux is very into quiet artsy guys.”

Clovis wasn’t sure how he felt about that, but seeing as he practically dreamed in paintings and museums, he assumed he could be considered an “artsy” guy. “Okay,” Clovis sighed. “So I have nothing to worry about.”

“I mean, yeah, but…” Mitchell grinned mischievously, Clovis thought it could rival the Cheshire Cat. “You honestly can’t deny me giving you a makeover, right?”

“Ugh,” Clovis pulled the covers over his head. “Whhhyyyy?”

“You mean besides the fact that you need a haircut?” Mitchell’s voice was muffled under the cotton and down. “Look, I’ll go easy on you. This isn’t going to be an America’s Next Top Model level makeover.”

“I don’t know what that even means.”

Mitchell pulled the covers off Clovis, his big brown eyes looking back into Clovis’. “Please Clovis,” he pleaded. “At least let me fix your hair, and maybe give you a new outfit.”

Clovis pondered on this for a moment. Yes, he could’ve used a haircut, it was getting to be an awkward length and uneven in areas, but he also didn’t care too much. Usually when someone got an Aphrodite Cabin makeover, it was a complete transformation. However, Clovis wanted to give Mitchell the benefit of the doubt, so far Mitchel proved to be trustworthy.

“Just don’t make me look stupid, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> edit 10/26: i kind of wrote myself into a corner and wasnt sure how to keep going, so i just made an adjustment to the ending of the chapter. on to the next thing!
> 
> So this took me a g e s. I appreciate everyone's patience, I am the world's slowest writer, three monkeys with typewriters could write faster than me.
> 
> As per usual, comments and kudos are very appreciated and feel free to chat with me on my tumblr @gwenkota or my twitter @hehkhatea


	3. Dream a Little

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You can always wake up from a nightmare, but it's better when you wake up next to someone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow, this took 5ever to update, I'm so so soooooo sorry about the long ass wait.  
> my excuse is basically that school and mental illnesses rule my life and I had a huge writers block. I even went back and edited some of the older chapters because I had kind of written myself into a wall. but I hope you all enjoy this chapter, hopefully the next one wont take half a year to finish!  
> kudos and comments are always appreciated!

The last time Clovis had seen New York reasonably deserted was when Hurricane Irene. In hindsight, the city didn’t need to evacuate the way that it did, at worst a few streets and subways were flooded. No power went out, everything was closed, all that existed was rain. This New York was worse; cars weren’t abandoned or crashed into power lines, but the people behind the wheels and in their seats were asleep. Nothing would rouse them from their sleep, this Clovis could tell. He could sense this kind of magic anywhere.

The dark overcast and storming clouds seemed almost too realistic to be a dream; in dreams there’s always a likeness that is almost fantastical, cartoonish, as if an element of the world the dreamer was in had been drawn in. This wasn’t a dream, it was a memory. Clovis ran down the street, avoiding the stray bikes and pedestrians that had plopped down onto the street to sleep, towards the only building lit up in the darkness. The Empire State Building, Mount Olympus, stood like a big glowing beacon against the black of the city. Clovis was sure that he had never ran this fast in his life, yet he felt drawn to the only sign of life, and as he approached the end of a block he was suddenly knocked to the ground by a speeding force.

A jolt to the ground like this should’ve woken Clovis up, it was his body’s natural response to the feeling of dying or experiencing pain and would shoot a bunch of adrenalin into his body, but he remained awake to see that the person that had tackled him was wearing armor and an orange camp t-shirt. As Clovis was about to protest and struggle, the body held him down. Clovis then saw the drakon tear through the street next to them, bashing against the sides of the narrow streets.

The voice of the tackler was familiar as it swore next to Clovis’ ear, and when he turned his head he saw that it was Pollux. It was the same Pollux from the night before; a younger, slightly fatter, more terrified version of Pollux. He got off of Clovis and lifted him up, grabbing his arm and dragging him away from the fight. Clovis held onto Pollux’s good arm, as the other one was held up in a sling; how could someone tackle another with a broken arm? Pollux guided them to a small alleyway on the next street, he took the time to gather his breath.

Clovis could connect the dots; they were in Pollux’s memory of the Battle of New York. “Is this what you dream of every night?” Clovis held onto the front of his shirt. “You relive the battles you fought in?”

“You say that like I  _ want  _ to dream this,” Pollux snapped. “Believe me, I wish I could have dreams where my teeth fall out and I’m standing naked at a spelling bee.”

The drakon roared over the sound of clashing weapons and cries of injury. “The only person in charge of the dream is you, Pollux!” Clovis advised over the sounds. “You can change the dream!”

“Isn’t that your job?” Pollux retorted. “You’re the one with the dream powers!”

“That’s not the point! In real life, did you hide in this alley during the camp’s fight with the drakon?”

“No.”

“Then you’ve already changed it.” The second Pollux acknowledged the change, everything went quiet. They could no longer hear the drakon or the campers fighting it, and as they poked their heads out they saw that everything had disappeared, even the sleeping civilians. Pollux was breathing deeply, clearly uncomfortable and confused by the change; Clovis, gingerly, grabbed onto Pollux’s arm.

The demigod flinched at first, looking back at Clovis with his intense purple eyes. They softened after a moment, and Pollux started to walk down the empty street. As Clovis followed, silent, Pollux examined his dreamscape.

“So are you telling me that,” Pollux pushed back some loose blonde hair from his forehead. “ _ Inception _ was right, and that we have some control of our dreams all the time, like outside of lucid dreams?”

“I never finished  _ Inception _ ,” Clovis admitted, much to Pollux’s disappointment. “I kept falling asleep. But, all dreams come from our subconscious, and sometimes the weird things we experience in our dreams are our ways of reacting to stress or feelings we have when we’re awake.”

“So what does it mean that I keep dreaming about my worst memories?” Pollux looked down the street where the drakon had been, in its place was two figures. One person holding another on the ground. Clovis recognized the person holding the other as Clarisse, head counselor of Ares cabin. Pollux turned away, his face had paled again.

Clovis held onto Pollux’s shoulders, trying to stabilize him. “Listen, they’re not there. They’re not actually here.” Clovis’ thumb rubbed circles into him. “You’re only freaking yourself out. You’re making yourself feel guilty for things that aren’t your fault.”

Pollux’s head leaned into Clovis’, their foreheads meeting gently. Pollux held onto Clovis’ shirt sleeve so tightly it seemed like they would rip from his shaking grip. Pollux’s breath began to steady as he breathed deeply. Clovis didn’t want to think about their close proximity at the moment, he couldn’t think about it. He couldn’t think about the feeling of Pollux’s forehead on his own, the warmth of his frantic breathing. 

He wanted to hold him closer, but the dream was shifting. It was shifting and they needed to wake up.

Clovis woke up slowly, as per usual, but he could see Pollux sitting up from his cot on the floor. Pollux was taking deep breaths, his head resting between his hands. The pieces of glass that hung above Clovis’ bed reflected little rainbows in the moonlight, coloring the messy shave on the back of Pollux’s head. 

The night had started like this: Clovis meditated on the fact that Pollux was going to be sleeping in their cabin that night and fully prepared himself. This meant that he made himself a cup of tea, drank it, and then promptly fell asleep for a few hours and made himself forget about the whole thing. By the time Rosa came back from her activities it was well into the afternoon and she had to wake him up.

Clovis didn’t bother coming up with a game plan on how this was going to go, he just pretended that it was a run of the mill sleep session. After all, Rory and Rosa had both seen Pollux the night before, they would have no reason think Clovis might have ulterior motives. Pollux showed up after dinner, holding a pillow and wearing a camp shirt that seemed to fit a hellhound. Pollux was pleasant, and a little tanner from being outside all day, and even acknowledged Rosa who was hiding behind Rory when he showed up.

Everyone in the cabin had expected that Pollux was going to sleep in one of the many made and empty beds, so it was a bit of a shock to see him toss his pillow on the floor next to Clovis’ bed. Clovis, already in a sleepy daze and was ready to sleep, didn’t miss a beat and pulled out two blankets that he kept folded up under his bed. Pollux was skeptical at first, reminding them all that he had been having trouble sleeping for weeks and that there was no way he was going to fall asleep as quick as any one of them. His skepticism wore off when Rory flicked his forehead and he instantly fell asleep on the floor.

It took Clovis a couple minutes to find Pollux’s dream, and now the dream was over and they both sat in the dark of the cabin. Clovis watched Pollux for a while, seeing him rub his face and mess up his blond curls. He looked a lot different than when he had seen him before falling asleep; Clovis thought he kind of looked like his past-self, the person that he had seen in his dreams, softer looking than the too-cool-for-school version of Pollux that everyone else got to see. 

Slowly, Clovis got out of bed and walked around Pollux to go to the little kitchen. Pulling out the electric kettle again, he started to make more tea. The mugs the cabin had collected were a mosh posh of souvenir mugs and ones that said ominous messages (the camp oracle’s designs); Clovis pulled out one from the largest ball of twine and another that said “the early bird gets the early grave”. Waiting for the water to boil, Clovis walked back to Pollux, who was examining the little bookshelf of bedtime stories that sat on the wall behind him.

“You guys don’t seem to have a shortage of Greek Myths, that’s for sure.” Pollux commented in a hushed tone. He gestured to the many different editions of Edith Hamilton’s  _ Mythology _ , all in various stages of wear and tear. 

Clovis smiled. “Yes, I’m sure they’re meant to be in every cabin, like a Bible in hotel rooms.” Pollux covered his mouth in an attempt to hide a laugh that had bubbled up in his chest. Clovis could see Pollux’s eyes crinkle a little, his eyebrows twitching up. Clovis felt his heart hitch in his chest a little, but it quickly settled back. “I’m making tea, would you like some?” Clovis offered, and Pollux removed his hand from his mouth, nodding in agreement. Clovis stood up and walked to the sitting area and turned on the fairy-lights that went around the circumference of the sitting pit.

Pollux helped himself to seat and took a pillow to hold in his lap. He started playing with the fringe that was sewn around the border of the pillow. Clovis went back to the kettle, just in time before it started to scream, and turned it off. Carefully, he brought the two mugs with him, filled with hot water with little teabags floating near the top. All this while the poplar tree that grew in the center of the cabin dripped Lithe river water into the little pool that collected the drips.

It was late in the night, or very early morning to some. Pollux took the mug from Clovis, thanking him quietly. In the brief touch they had, Clovis felt almost immediately addicted, but couldn’t do anything to curve the crave to hold Pollux’s hand. The feeling was fleeting, and he settled into casualty again.

“So what happens now?” Pollux’s voice was so low and deep, almost closed off from exhaustion and from sleep.

“How do you mean?” Clovis replied, taking a tentative sip of the tea, still too hot to ingest.

“Do I have to keep coming back to you? I feel like I haven’t solved any of my sleep problems yet.” Pollux looked slightly more rested than he had before, but Clovis could tell he was still worried, not himself. 

“I suppose,” self consciously, Clovis tucked some of his messy curls back, behind his ears and out of his face. “You’re not obligated to, it’s up to you. Most of the time me and my sisters end up in other people’s dreams anyway and we help that way. If you’re really desperate, you could try praying to Hypnos.”

Pollux took a deep breath, scratching the top of his head. “Wasn’t really hoping for divine intervention, but…” He took a sip of his tea and didn’t terribly enjoy the taste of it. “I don’t know if I’m  _ that _ desperate.”

Clovis looked down at his own mug, vaguely seeing his reflection in it from the small firelight. His mother always told him how much she was thankful that he looked more like Hypnos, that he didn’t have her weak chin or the bump in her nose. Still, when Clovis looked at himself all he ever could think of was what Drew Tanaka had said about him, saying that he looked like a cow. He hasn’t seen his dad in awhile, but Clovis didn’t think he looked like a cow. Hypnos looked like all the marble and porcelain figures that had depicted him in ancient times, Hypnos probably came to these artists in their dreams, infected their minds so much that they had to capture his likeness to a perfect degree.

Clovis cleared his throat a little before taking another drink at his tea, the camomile and mint hit his senses intensely, and then they numbed, relaxing him momentarily. “If you don’t mind me asking,” Clovis started to speak after a moment, Pollux met Clovis’ gaze, “but why did you come to me now. I mean, to be honest, you seem like you’ve been struggling with this for a while, you said it got worse in the last couple of days but this is clearly residual from years ago. So why now?”

He felt his heart beating, afraid he said the wrong thing, that it came across as rude. Pollux’s face softened a little, but then he almost cringed, as if Clovis had slapped him in the face. “Well,” Pollux began. “Part of it was that I was sick of having these nightmares, and I thought better late than never, you know?” Pollux fidget with the earring stud in his right ear, spinning it while he collected his thoughts. “I’m also moving, into one of the new apartments they built in Little Athens, yeah?” Pollux was referring to the beginnings of a neighborhood in New Athens, ones with shops and apartments. Clovis hadn’t explored it at all yet since it was still under construction. 

Clovis couldn’t lie, he felt his heart sink a little at the thought of Pollux moving away from camp, he had forgotten that Pollux was one of the oldest campers still around. It was bound to happen eventually, and the same would happen to Clovis, too.

“So,” Pollux continued. “My brother, cousin?” Pollux thought for a moment before shaking his head. “Dakota, from New Rome, is helping me move and is staying with me for a few weeks. He has no idea I’m having these nightmares, and I don’t want to freak him out.”

Clovis nodded, understanding the situation that Pollux has put himself into. “I see what you mean. My recommendation would be to try and go about your day normally, maybe take a nap after lunch, and just be open to the fact that one of us,” Clovis gestured to himself and his sisters sleeping in the corner. “Will be there trying to help. It also couldn’t hurt telling Dakota about the nightmares, maybe don’t go into specifics if you’re not comfortable, but I think Dakota would understand.”

Pollux chuckled a little, a small bubble of laughter that had come out of him as he went to take a drink. “And you say you’re not a therapist.”

“I’m not,” Clovis defended. “I’m just trying to think rationally.”

“Exactly.” Pollux smiled, showing off his gap, his violet eyes glowing a little in the light of the embers next to him. “So, do we go back to sleep? I bet that’s what you’d like to do.”

Clovis smiled. “More than ready to go to sleep again, but you’re under no obligation to stay and sleep. I’m sure you can out run the harpies back to your cabin.”

“I don’t know, one of them got me once when I was staying at Hecate cabin late at night, those feathery bitches don’t mess around.” This made Clovis smile a little wider, almost laugh, but he was getting more and more fatigued. 

Finishing off his tea, Clovis got up and started to go back to bed, but Pollux grabbed his hand before he could get up very far. “Do you want to hang out tomorrow?” Pollux asked. “Or, rather, later today? Me and Lou Ellen were going to have a picnic in the strawberry fields at noon, do you want to tag a long?” Clovis was sure that his hands were sweating profusely, that his face was red and warm, but he felt himself nod before he could regester what he was agreeing to. Clovis was too tired to freak out, to go through a rolodex of different terrible outcomes that would happen.

“Great,” Pollux let go of Clovis’ hand, and once again Clovis felt almost high. “Good night, Clovis.” He stayed sitting near the fire pit as Clovis dragged his feet over to his bed and settled into bed and into blissful sleep.

Shaken awake, Clovis felt like he was in the middle of an earthquake. “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU DID THIS WITHOUT TELLING ME!” A voice exclaimed, possibly the same person that was shaking Clovis awake.

“Oh my gods what-” delirious, Clovis opened his eyes to see Mitchell standing above him, a frantic expression on his face. “Oh… good morning Mitchell.” Clovis grabbed his blankets and pulled them over himself, completely planning on going back to sleep. It was not to be, as Mitchell pulled them off of Clovis’ bed entirely, russling the crystals and wine chimes above Clovis’ bed.

Clovis groaned, covering his eyes. “You’re the worst.” he complained.

“ _ I’m _ the worst? You’re the one going on dates with Pollux without consulting me!” Clovis removed his hands, looking up at Mitchell with a quizzical and mildly offended expression.

“Mitchell, dream help isn’t a date, it’s my job.”

“I’m talking about going on a romantic picnic in the strawberry fields!” Mitchell crossed his arms. “Though that’s kind of cliche, everyone goes on dates there, it’s like parking at an overlook.”

“How did you know about the picnic?” Clovis, reluctantly sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Mitchell was dressed in his camp shirt, paired with high water jeans and tennis shoes. Mitchell was one of few children of Aphrodite that dressed more sensibly, but he still managed to look good in anything.

“Lou Ellen was talking about it, said Pollux was excited about it.” This surprised Clovis, he kind of assumed that Pollux invited him to be nice, not because he was expecting or looking forward to it.

“Well she’s going to be there, too, it’s not really a date.” Clovis explained to Mitchell. He glanced at the clock, and his heart dropped when he saw it was a half hour before noon. “Oh shoot, I have to get dressed.”

“That’s precisely why I’m here.” Mitchell went to the little wardrobe next to Clovis’ bed, opening drawers in a hurry. “I need to assess what kind of clothes you have that are presentable.” Mitchell threw Clovis his toothbrush and toothpaste. “Gods know I’m not going to let you go out in a camp shirt and footie pajamas.”

Clovis felt hurt by that statement, especially since he didn’t own any footie pajamas, but he also had manticore slippers and matching Hercules Busts Heads pjs so he was well aware of his embarrassing sleepwear. He started to brush his teeth, not having time to wet his toothbrush. Mitchell started tossing all of the baggy sweats and jeans Clovis owned, grunting in disgust.

“Hey, I know this might not mean anything,” Clovis said with a mouth full of spit and toothpaste. “But maybe, Pollux won’t care what I wear.”

Mitchell turned to him, squinting slightly. “Clovis, even when someone says ‘oh I don’t care what you look like’, they secretly do care what you look like. Not even people in love are completely in love with the idea of their boyfriend or girlfriend looking like a slob all the time.”

Clovis kept brushing his teeth, not trying to start anything. Clovis was pretty sure that Mitchell had never been on a real date ever in his life and was probably just parroting what he had heard one of his siblings say, but Clovis had no say in the situation. He had, after all, agreed to have Mitchell help him. Mitchell found a pair of pants that he apparently had deemed acceptable and tossed it next to Clovis and then proceeded to find a shirt. 

“Do you have anything that’s not from a rest stop or a camp shirt?” Mitchell complained, going through the piles of orange. Finally he picked up a striped shirt, which Clovis knew was actually a Picasso shirt from the National Gallery that one of his cousins from his mother’s side had gotten for him. “This will have to do, horizontal stripes aren’t great because they make you look wider-”

“Hey!” Clovis nearly spat all of his toothpaste.

“But at least it's not orange!” Mitchell smiled, somewhat proud. “Now get dressed, I have to fix your hair.”

Clovis picked up the empty cup on his nightstand and spat into it. “Maybe you could give me a little privacy?”

“Oh please-”

“ _ Mitchell _ .” Clovis insisted. Mitchell obliged, turning around and going further into the cabin. Clovis took off his pajamas and changed into the clothes Mitchell had picked out for him, the dark blue stripes on his shirt matched the blue of the pants, even if the cuffs were frayed from being too long for Clovis. He thought about rolling them up, but if Mitchell didn’t like it he would just roll them back down so he took the chance not to.

Clovis got up and started to wander to the kitchen, ignoring Mitchell’s pleased giggle. “Oh you look so cute!” Clovis saw that Rory must’ve made coffee for him and he was more than glad that there was enough for him to have a mug. “You’re having coffee after brushing your teeth?” Mitchell sat at the fire pit.

“Not my choice,” Clovis snapped. “I need the caffeine, grossness be damned.” He sat next to Mitchell, who was already starting to comb out his cowlicks. Clovis grunted and whined as Mitchell brushed his hair, not bothering to apologize about every little knot in his hair. Clovis typically didn’t try to groom his hair, since it was always a mess anyway, but at least it was fairly clean and not curly.

“This is much better,” Mitchell said, content that he had gotten all the snarls out of Clovis’ hair. It was almost soothing how Mitchell combed his hair now that Clovis nearly fell asleep again, but he jolted back awake and drank his coffee. “I think this is my best work.” Mitchell commented.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Clovis smiled at Mitchell. “So should I be expecting you to be hiding in a tree, watching my every move during this picnic? Or perhaps you have an earpiece you want to give me so you can feed me lines?”

“I wasn’t going to go that far,” Mitchell rolled his eyes. “I have a good feeling about Pollux.”

“How so?”

“All I did the other day was comment on how Pollux looked tired,” Mitchell leaned back on his arms, lounging as if he was in a poolside chair. “And I told him to talk to you. He said he’d been meaning to but was intimidated by you and your cabin.”

Clovis nearly choked on his coffee as he coughed in surprise. “I know!” Mitchell patted the back of Clovis’ back, thankful that Clovis hadn’t spilled any on his white shirt. “He thought you were all judgmental since you have a resting bitch face all the time.”

“I have RBF?”

“This is not the part of the story you should be worrying about.” Mitchell was right, according to him, Pollux was interested in Clovis. Or, at least, interested in sleeping better. “So, at the ceremony, you have to be sure to tell everyone that you would have never gotten together if it wasn’t for m-”

Clovis shoved Mitchell a little. “Good gods, what is with you and weddings?” Mitchell grinned and shrugged, content that he had probably planted an image into Clovis’ mind (he had).

Mitchell looked at his wrist watch. “You better get going, Clovis.” Clovis nodded, handing Mitchell the rest of his coffee before getting up to leave the cabin. “Go get em’, Tiger!”

**Author's Note:**

> A month ago in a fit of sleep exhaustion i was determined to figure out what already established PJO character could be shipped with Pollux. I know that Clovis isn't an original idea, but I'm taking it and rolling with it. For a while i didn't do anything about it because I was (and still am as of 6/28) working on my other fic, but I'm taking a little break and decided to work on this!
> 
> Once again I am making up elaborate backstories for characters that had less than 20 pages of "screen time" in the books, and I'm in love with these Dionysus/Bacchus boys! 
> 
> Comments and Kudos are always appreciated and you can yell at me on my tumblr @gwenkota!


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